


The End Of An Era

by glorafin



Series: Muse Centre Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fourth Wall, M/M, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorafin/pseuds/glorafin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if all characters of the Harry Potter fandom were made to live together in one big facility? They would be hoarded there by Livejournal in order to boost inspiration for writers. They would have to enact, day after day after day, all the fics being written. Wouldn't there be jealousy between characters, between pairings?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Of An Era

**Author's Note:**

> Any kind of constructive criticism is more than welcome. This story is loosely related to my first ever fic and borrows its starting point from Luigi Pirandello’s play Six Characters in search of an author via Sakeene's RPS story Slash Dorm . It was written in 2008, and it sometimes shows. The ASS ship for instance did not get the glorious future some had foreseen. And the insistence on Livejournal's role in fandom was consistent with my view of fandom at that time.

Leaning on the headboard of the bed, Draco called, "Harry?"  
  
The voice he used was clearly meant to convey some kind of anguish, as if some terrible emergency had just revealed itself. Still, the only answer he got was a muffled grunt coming from below the sheets. Irritated at being ignored, Draco sighed noisily before nudging with his foot the tightly wrapped body currently lying down next to him.  
  
"Harry ! I'm bored. Do something about it."  
  
"Grmpf. Leave me alone. I'm tired. Go for a walk or something."  
  
"Tired! Are you kidding? We haven't done any work for two days. How can you be tired?"  
  
"I live with you.That'd be enough to tire anybody out."  
  
Picked, Draco stood up from the bed and went to open the door, "I'll go out of your way then. In my boxers.  Everyone will look at me, countless people will be wanting to worship my amazing body. And I'll flirt back with all of them, never thinking of you."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. Nobody will look at you and you won't flirt back with anyone. You're mine and everyone here knows it."  
  
"I'm not yours. I'm my own man, thank you very much."  
  
"No, you're not. You're mine. Slut!Draco is the one who could flirt back with anyone and get into orgies with random characters just to rile me up. He lives one floor up. Go talk to him if you want. It'll be your little rebellion against my horrid insensitivity. But for now let me sleep. In a few hours, I'll be all over you, I promise. And who knows? We might even get an assignment."  
  
Then Harry decisively turned his back on him while tightening the sheets around him.  
  
Draco went out in a huff.

  
  
\----------------------------------------

 

 

 

Draco had been walking up and down the 'Main non-cross-generational slash pairings' corridor for nearly half an hour. He had to admit that his flirtatious smiles were frustratingly ineffective, although all the greetings he got were cordial. He had chatted amicably with some other characters,  discussing work conditions and the new trends in fandom. The only exception was of course that brat best-mates!Ron, who thought his very existence was an abomination and never missed an opportunity to remind him of that opinion.

"What a wanker", thought Draco. "As if anyone with a modicum of sanity could detect in the books any kind of chemistry between Harry and that laddish hot-tempered freckled freak." As far as Draco was concerned, all Harry-Ron stories were pure crack. It was soooo obvious that Harry could only ever love him.

So he regally ignored Ron's insults and kept walking, glancing successively at the Remus/Sirius, Grindeldore and Dean/Seamus doors, all proudly surmounted with a bright "BUSY. DO NOT DISTURB" sign.

Then Draco arrived at the AS/S room. The sign was switched off. On a whim, Draco entered, without bothering to knock first. Why should he? After all, that whole AS/S business was just an outlet for H/D writers who couldn't deal with their characters reaching adulthood, a pitiful ersatz, nothing deserving any kind of respect.

Sitting at the table, Albus Severus and Scorpius were staring at each other with that eager intensity that only newly paired couples can keep for more than a few minutes. Draco felt a pang of jealousy. It had been so long since Harry had looked at him like that. But he quickly covered it, reminding himself that there was nothing to be jealous about, that the ASS ship was just a bad pun grossly outstaying its welcome.

Glancing away from his mate for a moment, Albus Severus sighed "Oh no, Scorp, look who's here. Again. The old man who thinks he's better than us because he has more page space in canon."

Scorpius seamlessly elaborated, "That old bore again? Doesn't he have anything better to do than bother us with his inane tales about how everything was better before, quote, that dreadful epilogue ruined everything, end quote?" Then he added with a very Malfoy-ish sneer that would have got Harry to melt down in a second. "Well, no, of course, he hasn't. I've heard that assignments are few and far between in the old folks' room nowadays. People want fresh blood, and fully functioning bodies, not senile wizards trying to recapture their youth. You should tell him about the archive. He's going to get green with envy."

So Albus explained at lengths and with no little relish what he had found while browsing fandom journals a few days ago : a bunch of well-known H/D authors were branching out to create a next-gen archive site.

While listening to Albus's endless flow of self-satisfaction ('next generation taking over'...  blah blah blah.... 'we will certainly be the central part of that new archive'), Draco was leafing through the pile of recent assignments stacked on the shelf next to the door. He could not help being impressed by the sheer volume of it. It seemed as if life in the ASS room was just an endless carnival of sex and fluff. It made him feel nostalgic for the good old days, when it was them who could barely keep up with the demand.

Obviously wanting Draco to leave, Scorpius's next words were chosen to be as hurtful as possible.  
"So you see, you really should make peace with the idea that you are over and fast sinking into oblivion. The sooner you accept it, the less painful it will be. Now get lost and let us work. We still have three assignments to do before night-time."

Outraged, Draco exclaimed, "Scorpius! I can't let you speak to me that way. Don't you have any respect? I'm your father!"

"No you're not. I've got nothing to do with you. In the vast majority of stories, my father is happily-married!Draco, he lives in the "Main straight pairings" corridor and is nowhere near as irritating as you are. So keep your delusions of paternity for your own sordid mpreg fantasies, leave us be and don't forget to close the door on your way out!"  
Satisfied that those parting words would have the desired effect, Albus and Scorpius went back to staring at each other's eyes, exchanging sweet words of endearment.  
   
That sickening display of sentimentalism was too much for Draco to stand. Rendered momentarily speechless by the cheek of those two brats, Draco went out and took great satisfaction from his slamming the door shut. That loud invasive noise was expressing his feelings much more effectively than any word could. He was livid, filled with so much indignation that he wanted nothing more than to share it with Harry. Still, he knew enough about his and Harry's tempers to know that now would not be a good time to go back to their room. He had to cool down first.

A few more minutes of walking allowed his indignation to decrease to more manageable levels. When he arrived at the end of the corridor, he met Snupin!Snape, who was dressed in a pink tutu, of all things.

"Severus, what a lovely surprise. You look especially fetching today."

"Draco, don't think for a second that I'm in any mood to suffer your impertinence. I've just gone through a very traumatic experience, having to act out the most asinine assignment we ever had the displeasure to get this side of FF.net-hell. A musical AU based on Beauty and The Beast. I was a ballet dancer and Remus was the big star, playing the title role. He had to spot me in the background, be blown away by my grace and elegance, and hilariously mess up his lines. The whole thing was a horrible mess from start to finish. And whoever is dim enough to believe that male dancers routinely wear pink tutus should not be allowed to go near a working computer, let alone use it." His indignation suddenly deflating, Snape added, "This job will be the end of me. I don't know how long I can keep up like this."

Draco smiled, "Well, lighten up. It's not all bad. At least, you got your guy at the end."

"Yes, that's true I suppose. One of the rare perks of this senseless existence. However idiotic the journey, the end point is always somewhat satisfying."

Snape then went back to looking at the official notice that had been recently put up on the wall. Scowling, he asked Draco, "Can you understand anything written on this?"

Draco answered, "Nope, sorry. It's been a long time since I had to know any Russian," before whispering wistfully, "since _Danse Russe_ probably." Coming back to their conversation, he added, "But I heard that Bookworm!Hermione is taking an accelerated course in Russian and has volunteered to be our representative before the new owners. She probably could translate this."

"Of course she could. I should have known.... But she's the only one! How ridiculous it that they communicate with us in Russian? They can't possibly expect us to understand a word of it."

"That's Muggle capitalism for you. Financial transfers giving the wealthy absolute powers over mere workers like us. The big bosses are now Russians so they communicate with us in their language, and it's up to us to adapt. Taking into account the status of my family in our world, I'm afraid I am in no position to criticize that kind of tyranny of the rich."

By some kind of amazing coincidence, Bookworm!Hermione chose that precise moment to appear from the staircase, having decided to wander out of her own "Stereotyped Gen Characters" floor, which all happily paired characters affectionately called the "Wankers Floor".

"Hi, Harry's Draco. Hi, Snupin!Snape. I see that you're looking at the new notice. They are all over the building, in every corridor of every floor. What do you think of it?"

Snape muttered, "I could hardly tell you that, Miss Granger. I can't make sense of it."

Hermione managed not to look too smug, but it was a close call. "Professor, can I really detect a reluctant call for help under your heavy sarcasm?"

Snape muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Yes, now get on with it, you irritating Muggle know-it-all."

Undeterred, Hermione went on, "I must say Remus is a very good influence on you. I feel all validated now, and anxious to share my knowledge with the less educated. A very noble sentiment, I think you'll agree, and one I deeply regret you didn't share when you were my teacher."

Not being able to muster up the courage to explain to Bookworm!Hermione that he couldn't be held responsible for the behaviour of all the Snapes of the world, Snupin!Snape hurried her on, "Less preaching and more translating if you please. We haven't got all day. We can't all live in the wretched desert of loneliness and eternal virginity you'll forever inhabit. Some of us actually have mates to go back to."

Hermione let the barbed comment slide. "Actually, those notices warn us that some relocations are planned for the next few weeks. All individual rooms available in the 'LJ Harry Potter Muse Centre' will be allocated for 2009 in accordance with the latest popularity stats for each pairing. They don't say exactly how it will work or when the decision will be taken, but the wording strongly implies that some steep changes are in store. You shouldn't worry though. Both of you are probably safe."

Draco exclaimed, "What? We obviously are not. It's been two days since Harry and I got any assignment. Two days! The clutches of irrelevance are upon us. We're done. I just know it. It'll be the common room for us. And Harry who's still sleeping, all carefree, knowing nothing about our impending doom. I must go back and warn him at once."

Draco turned his back on them without even saying goodbye. Snape and Hermione distinctly heard him muttering, "The common room! Us! The ignominy of it all."

\-----------------------------------------

As soon as Draco had closed the door of their room, he shed his boxers and slipped under the sheets, needing to hold Harry in his arms and make the most of their cosy individual room, soon to be snatched away from them by heartless apparatchiks. With feverish anxiety, he started giving his other half small kisses on the neck and on the back of his ears, one of Harry's least well-known erogenous zones.

"Harry ! You need to wake up. A horrible thing has just happened."

Harry stretched with a yawn, before turning over toward his mate, watching him with sleepy eyes . "Hey you. You're back. I was just dreaming about you. Did you enjoy your walk?"

"It was fine at first. That annoying Ron was being a prat as usual, but nothing I couldn't handle. Then I came across an official notice pinned on the wall and it all turned to hell. We are doomed, finished, washed out, done with, kaput, evanescioed, banished. Our whole world is about to sink down into the flames of eternal damnation."

"Tsss, tsss. You're talking nonsense. There's no hell in our world, Draco. So no flames and eternal damnation for you. Don't you worry about it."

"No hell! NO HELL! Of course, there is a hell. Have you never entered the Hufflepuff common room? There is intellectual suffering, an abject lack of culture and refinement, mismatching colours as far as eyes can see, fashion faux-pas à gogo and flames flickering menacingly in the hearth. Looks pretty much like hell to me. And anyway, I really don't think now is the time for getting technical on canon compliance. Have you not heard what I just told you? We are DOOMED."

Draco was getting more hysterical by the second, which prompted Harry to gently caress his stomach and whisper in his ear, "Sssh. Calm down. Caps-locked!Draco went out of fashion years ago. I really don't think he needs a revival, do you?"

When Draco had finally composed himself, Harry added, "Now tell me what actually happened. I'm sure it can't be that bad. Did they come back with that ridiculous threat of banishing the whole fandom from their servers?"

"No. It's worse. Much worse. I can hardly say it. We... We... We are going to be moved into the Common Room."  
Harry looked a bit taken aback, "The Common Room?"

"Yes. The Common Room, that horrible place where minor pairings go to die. Do you even know what happens in there? I heard that, yesterday, in one of the stalls, Hagrid told Filch, and I quote, 'So, I hear that you're the caretaker. Why don't you take care of my giant cock then?'"

Draco shuddered in disgust, "How can such an awful piece of dialogue even exist in a world where I live and breathe? I can't live in the same room as those people. I can't. We have standards to uphold. We are main characters, young, attractive, powerful. We can't go and live in a commune with the Crabbes, Goyles, Bagmans and McNairs of this world."

"Of course we won't. I don't believe that for one second. Did that notice actually mention us? I hardly think our popularity can have decreased so much that we wouldn't be in the top 10 non-cross-generational slash pairings."

"What are you talking about? Can't you see what's happening with us? Two days! It's been  two days since we got any assignment. Those damned Russians won't allocate us an individual  room if nobody writes about us. Two days! More than 48 fucking hours. Since my voice broke, I've never gone that long without getting off. For all I know, my dick has rotten away and I didn't even notice."

Draco took a deep breath. It wouldn't do for such a good rant to be stopped midway through lack of air. Then, with renewed vigour, he started again, "Don't you see? We will never have sex again. Starting tomorrow, we'll be senile wizards, shaking like leaves and drooling on our robes. We'll be holding each other's hands under the blanket, the only physical comfort we'll still be able to get, but we won't be quite deaf enough to be spared the terrifying sound of Crabbe and Goyle discussing dildo textures next to us. I'd rather die right now."  
   
Harry's amusement was plain to see, and Draco could not understand why Harry took that horrendous fate so light-heartedly.

"Calm down. Of course, we won't be moved into the common room. Last time I checked, we were still in the top 5 of all HP pairings. And still the top non-cross-generational slash pairing."

"No, we are not, our brat sons have taken over. I've seen it with my own eyes. I went into their rooms during my little walk. They were swamped with work. Piles of assignments from floor to ceiling. Drama, angst, fluff, acrobatic sex, and even journeys to the French Riviera whereas, these days, we are lucky if we get once every two weeks some half-hearted shagging in a bed. And most of the times, it's some established-relationship crap. I haven't fallen in love with you for months. I miss our first awkward fumblings. I want to feel again the thrill of crossing those fine lines between hate and lust and between lust and love."

"OK. Maybe there is some truth in that. Maybe people are now seeing us differently as characters. But, hey, canon is closed. It's a whole new situation for us. We practically have canonical validation of our love now. Why would writers still struggle to make us fall in love now they know how much I value your life and how eager you are to hop on my broom and hold me tightly in your arms as soon as things get a little hot. As far as writing epic fics go, maybe some people find us old news. And it's not just you, you know. I hardly killed any Voldemorts this year. Most of the time I'm a boring Auror, pissing his life away doing menial work."

Draco started wailing again.

"Shh. Calm down. It's not all bad you know. We still have our fans, looking at us with fondness, wanting to give us the happy and carefree life they feel we are now entitled to. There are still hugely successful fests celebrating our love each year. And you're still the most handsome wizard ever, and I'd still be crazy about you if we had to share our bed in the Common Room with giant-cock!Hagrid and care-taking!Filch.

Draco smiled, "Would you really?"

"You know I would."

Then Harry rolled over Draco, wanting to let him feel how hard he still was for him.

Taking Draco's head into his hands, Harry showered his face with tiny kisses, interspersing them with silly terms of endearment. Draco was always claiming to hate those but Harry knew better than to believe him. Slight peck on the top of his nose. 'My marble Adonis', light licks on both eyelids. 'My unsung War hero', feathery kisses on the dimple of his chin and on the corner of his mouth, etc.. This lasted for a few minutes, until Harry was sure that Draco was definitely in the mood for more.

Then he threw the sheets on the floor and let his eyes feast on the body under him. Draco was right. Two days had been too long. What had they been thinking? No assignment didn't mean they had to refrain from sex. On the contrary, it was a perfect occasion for them to have fully satisfying sex for once, far from the hang-ups and clumsy wording of most authors. Something just between the two of them, with no audience. No writer, no readers. The only person they had to turn on was each other. Harry felt himself filled with a love made even more pure by the fact it was for once completely spontaneous. A burning need to make Draco feel wanted again was running through his veins and gathering in his groin. Harry instinctively knew that this was no time for protracted foreplay. He needed to come soon or he would faint on the spot.

Sitting on his knees astride Draco's legs, Harry gave a few licks to Draco's cock, just to guarantee it would fill up and stay hard for the next few minutes, then he made him turn over and lift his hips up. Harry would never tire of looking at Draco's arsehole. To him it was the symbol of their love. Draco would probably protest if he knew it, he'd say 'Is that all I am to you? A hole to satisfy your depravity?' But that was because he had no idea how much Harry idolized him. Harry knew that Draco was a refined wizard and that he would only show that intimate part of him to someone he trusted and loved completely. So each time Harry was looking at Draco's arse, Harry was reminded of how much Draco adored him.

His mouth  filling with saliva, Harry dropped his head toward Draco's buttocks, licking them both from side to side before dipping between them, desperate to be allowed inside his lover, to taste him once again. When his tongue finally made contact with the ring of muscle and broke into Draco's body, Harry knew everything was all right with the world. Making Draco writhe under him, giving him pleasure, making him feel alive, that was what his life was all about. After a few minutes of sucking and tongue-fucking, Harry made Draco lie on his back again and took a slow lick from hole to cock. Then he crawled back up Draco's chest, licking at his nipples, all the while holding Draco's knees with his arms. So attuned were their bodies that, when Harry arrived at Draco's mouth again, his cock was ready to go, painfully pointing at his lover's hole.

Knowing there was no need today for that silly one-finger-two-fingers-three fingers routine, Harry plunged, burying himself in one go, once again surrendering himself to the amazing feelings of Draco's warm and wet tightness engulfing his cock. Closing his eyes to better savour the moment, Harry began to thrust, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. When he felt the pleasure began to build in him, he blindly reached for Draco's cock and started wanking him in sync with his thrusts. It was so good. Sweat was pouring down his forehead. Needing air to maintain this frantic pace, Harry was keeping his mouth slightly open, and a string of saliva was dripping down his chin, threatening to fall down any moment onto Draco's chest. But Harry didn't care, immersed as he was in his own world of pleasure. Then it happened, at last. The pleasure which he had so far only felt on the surface of his cock was starting to reach down, before radiating toward his ass and spurting out of his body in a mixture of grunts and strings of cum, both thankfully coming from different orifices.

Then Harry opened his eyes again, looking at Draco's beautiful face. A few hand movements where all it took for Draco to finally feel the sweet liquid erupt from the tip of his cock.

The end.

\-----------------------------------------

Slightly out of breath, Harry lied down and said, "Now that was a weird assignment. It probably came from one of those new-ish writers who want to appear cleverer than they really are."

"Probably. The metaphysical implications of the whole thing made me so dizzy at times I could hardly remember who I was supposed to be. And the plot was so far-fetched it was unbelievable. As if I were insecure about our popularity! As if Bookworm!Hermione was the kind of girl to wander aimlessly in a slash corridor! And I would never stoop so low as to say 'sooooo'. I'm not a 12 year-old Muggle girl for fuck's sake. I'm a pure-blooded Wizard aristocrat."

Draco snorted, wanting to emphasize his utmost contempt for the whole thing. Harry just smiled. Then, hoping to win over his mate's approval, he added, "Well, at least the sex was rather good, if a bit rushed."

"GOOD? Are you kidding me? It was horrible. Your eyes were closed at all time, as if the sight of me would have made you deflate at once. You were drooling all over me like a rabid dog. And to add insult to injury, I was not allowed to feel anything. That writer seemed to think I was a puppet on a string to be moved at will, a piece of meat for you to get off in. The only time I was mentioned at all was when I came, and they still managed to make it sound as if I was some dumb kid pissing himself after drinking too much fizzy drinks. No offence Harry, but it was the antithesis of good sex. It was gross....gross end embarrassing."

"That bad, eh? Why don't you show me how it should have been then. You never know, writers might get some inspiration from it."

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, this whole thing was just an excuse for me to write three paragraphs of bad smut. As I knew right from the start that my smut-writing would be atrocious, I had to build around those three paragraphs a whole universe that would allow me to pretend that the sex was purposely bad. Yep, that's just how devious I am. I hope some of you will find in it some reasons to smile.
> 
> The story contains some allusions to fandom, including :  
> \- Frayach’s Danse Russe story : http://frayach-nicuill.livejournal.com/19283.html  
> \- the planned next-gen archive : http://calanthe-fics.livejournal.com/95904.html  
> \- the ASS carnival community : http://community.livejournal.com/ass_carnival/  
> \- the ASS Ship community : http://community.livejournal.com/the_ass_ship  
> \- the Harry-Ron bestmates fest : http://community.livejournal.com/bestmates_xmas/  
> \- the Sketches of Saint Tropez AS/S story (which I haven't read yet) : http://snarkyscorp.livejournal.com/952.html


End file.
